


that one where amelia meets sam

by rei_c



Series: The Genderfluid(ity) 'Verse [17]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Female Sam Winchester, Gen, POV Outsider, Sam and Dogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 09:38:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6978088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rei_c/pseuds/rei_c
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's ten minutes to closing but it sounds like the clinic won't be shutting up for the night at its usual time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	that one where amelia meets sam

Amelia can hear the desperation in whoever's just flung themselves inside the clinic; it's ten minutes to closing but if there's one thing Amelia's never been able to resist, it's the sound of a living creature in pain. She looks up at the ceiling, prays for patience, and then comes to an abrupt stop once she sees the woman in her waiting area. 

Tall -- fuck, she's got to be close to six feet, wearing ratty jeans full of holes and a grungy too-big plaid button-up, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. The state of the clothes isn't enough to hide how attractive this woman is and the tattoos covering her arms are gorgeous, only highlight the fey shape and colour of her eyes and the exquisite bone structure of her cheeks, jaw, collarbones, hands. 

Fuck. 

"What's the problem?" Amelia asks, gesturing for Stephanie, her secretary, to step back and leave this to her. Stephanie looks all too pleased to follow directions. 

"She -- I saw her on the side of the road," the woman says. Amelia's gaze swings to the massive pile of blanket on the cushioned bench -- not moving, not a good sign. "You've got to -- you need to help her, please. I wrapped her up and stopped the bleeding, I think, but she's -- someone must've hit her and then just _left_ her there and -- _please_." 

Amelia takes one more second to take this woman in, the circles under her eyes and the way she's shaking just a little, just enough to see, and then heads for the blanket. 

 

// _Later_ //

"I can honestly say that she looks better now than she probably has in years," Amelia admits, finishing the exam. She's taken the stitches out, given the dog a full look-over, and the mastiff's panting, eyes fixed on Sam, patient under Amelia's touch though it's clear that the instant Sam moves, the dog will as well. "Have you decided on a name?" 

"Shelley," Sam says, and the dog's ears prick forward. Sam laughs and steps forward, scritches Shelley's head, scruff, the places behind her ears. "And if she looks better, it's only thanks to you. You've worked miracles." 

Amelia shakes her head. She couldn't save the eye and half of one ear is gone, but both the eye socket and the ear are healing well. Her coat's glossier, her eyes are a little brighter; Sam's been taking great care of her, giving Shelley love and attention and food, enough to bring the dog back to life. "You're the one who brought her in and then took her home," Amelia says. "Joint effort?" 

Sam's smile is soft, fond. "Sure," she says. "We good?" At Amelia's nod, Sam tells Shelley, "Stay," and walks backwards until she hits the door, about eight paces. Sam and Shelley look at each other for a good twenty seconds and then Sam snaps her fingers. Shelley's instantly up and off the exam table, heads right for Sam, who drops to her knees and laughs, burying her face in Shelley's fur. 

Amelia's chest aches at the sight. Amelia's a healer, first and foremost, and this woman has some very deep cracks running through her soul. She doesn't know much about Sam but she wants to, wants to know Sam, wants to know what joys she's experienced and grieved the loss of, wants to know what sort of horrors she's struggling with. Even more, and for the first time since she opened her front door to see someone other than Don standing there, Amelia wants to share her own pain. There's something about Sam that makes her think Sam would be able to completely understand -- no, not simply understand, empathise on the exact same level.

"You wanna come over for dinner sometime?" Amelia blurts out. Sam freezes, looks up at her slowly, and Amelia flushes. "It's not -- just for company, I promise. I moved up here a few months ago and there aren't -- I mean, the people are nice, but not really very --" she flounders, searching for a word, ends up with "-- open."

"I -- thanks," Sam says. She hesitates, looks down at Shelley, and Amelia can see the instant the excuse pops up in Sam's mind. "I don't wanna leave Shell, though, and you may not want -- you could come to mine." 

Amelia blinks, says, "Yeah! Sure," a little too fast, a little too excited, before Sam changes her mind. 

Sam's eyes flicker; just for a moment, there's something dark and dangerous with desperation at the bottom of them, eyes that've seen too much of the horrors of the world and don't have much hope of finding the good things ever again. Amelia gets chills, meeting those eyes. 

"You'll have to give me time to do some grocery shopping and cleaning," Sam says. "I don't really -- there's not much food in the house right now, and it's a disaster. Two nights from now?"

"Two nights," Amelia says. She tries to bite back the smile but can only hide a portion of it. Sam's answering smile is a little more -- forced. But Amelia will take what she can get.


End file.
